Terms of Agreement

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Aiden

‘ A iden, over here!’

My focus snapped from the queue in front of me to the small hand waving frantically across the room. Weaving my way through the group of people that were crowded around the counter, I made my way over to where Louise sat, seat angled to face the crowded high street. Pulling off my jacket, I cast an eye around the coffee shop— Our Place . It was small, too small for the number of people waiting to be served, and there was shit everywhere—tables, chairs, magazines, there was even an entire wall dedicated to rows upon rows of books. I rolled my eyes; this place was so Louise.

‘Hey, Lou,’ I said, turning to face her. ‘What’s their coffee like?’

She slouched back on her stool and held up her milky monstrosity. ‘So good.’

‘Want a refill?’ I eyed the nearly empty mug in front of her. If I were to take an educated guess, based on the time of year, it was undoubtedly something pumpkin spiced.

‘I’m good, but if there’s cake on offer, I won’t say no,’ she said, shooting me a grin that let me know not to return without cake. Chuckling, I pulled my wallet from my inner coat pocket and headed to the front of the store and that God-awful queue. Lifting my gaze to the menu behind the counter, I scanned over the text. Not that knowing the menu would alter my order, but you could tell a lot about a place from their menu alone. An added bonus was that appearing busy served as a decent deterrent to any overly friendly queuers—Notting Hill was a repulsively chatty neighbourhood.

The menu wasn’t overly extensive—a good thing. Most of my worst meals were eaten in places with large menus that promised everything and delivered nothing. But that meant that I finished reading it long before it was my turn to order. Allowing my gaze to dip from the menu, I felt my eyes widen as they snagged on the Sanremo Verona in front of the barista. I let out a low whistle. They weren’t fucking around here. I bit down on a smile as I moved towards the front of the queue and placed my order.

‘So,’ I said, sliding the slice of stout cake across the table to Louise, ‘what brings you to this neck of the woods?’

Louise snorted and speared the cake with her fork. ‘It’s not like you’d come to me,’ she said, raising the fork to her mouth and doing her little food-happy dance while she ate.

‘I come to you.’

I lifted the mug to my lips and took a sip, the rich, earthy notes of the coffee spilling across my tongue. My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. This was good. My eyes darted over to the Sanremo as I took a second, larger sip. Very good. Good enough that if I were Louise, I’d be doing my own little happy dance. I shook my head at the ridiculous image that the thought conjured and set the cup down, turning my attention back to my sister, who’d practically finished her cake.

‘No.’ She shook her head emphatically and raised her fork to point it at my chest. ‘You have me meet near your office over lunch or I see you at Mum and Dad’s.’

‘Okay.’ My mouth twisted to the side as I wracked my brain, trying to find an example to prove her wrong. I couldn’t. ‘So you came to see me?’

‘Among other things.’ She shrugged off-handedly. I could ask, but I didn’t.

‘So, why’d you want to see me?’

‘We’re worried about you.’ That got my attention. I straightened in my seat, turning slightly to look at her, but her gaze was firmly fixed on the street outside, watching the people as they passed by.

‘“We” being?’

‘Mum. Dad. Me.’ She paused. ‘Everyone.’

I couldn’t help but scoff, sure that she was being dramatic. She levelled me with a glare that Mum would have been proud of.

‘We are, Aiden. You spend too much time on your own. You barely even leave the house.’

‘I leave the house!’

‘Oh yeah,’ she scoffed, rolling her eyes. ‘On your “walks.”’ She held up her hands to finger quote the word, and my spine prickled with irritation.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I glared at her. More specifically, at the offending digits she’d now moved out of my reach and into the safety of her lap.

‘It means,’ she drew out, ‘that until the breakup with She-Who-Shall-Not-be-Named, you couldn’t tell an oak from a Christmas tree, but you expect us to believe you’re a nature boy now?’ She raised a brow at me and tucked her chin, levelling me with a look that spelled “bullshit.”

‘I wasn’t not into nature,’ I defend myself. ‘I just didn’t have the time before… now I do.’

‘Now you walk?’

‘Yes.’ I shrugged. ‘Now I walk.’

‘How very Cheryl Strayed of you.’ She smirked, but her eyes widened at the blank look on my face. ‘Reese Witherspoon?’ She said coaxingly, waiting for me to catch on—I didn’t. ‘Wild?’ Still nothing. ‘Ugh,’ she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. ‘I forgot you don’t watch anything if no-one’s cooking.’

‘I assume you didn’t ask to meet up just to insult me?’

‘Nah, that’s just a perk.’ She winked and nudged me with a bony elbow.

‘Ouch,’ I said, feigning injury and rubbing over the spot on my arm.

‘Just wanted to check in,’ she continued, ignoring me, ‘make sure you’re still alive. Would be super inconvenient if you died on me—I’d have nowhere to stay come November.’

‘Brat.’

She shrugged and launched into the latest news of life at the bank. Louise was part of their graduate cohort and, a few months in, wasn’t excited by the work she was doing. I felt for her. Louise had always struggled to find a path. As loud as she was, she’d spent most of her childhood trying to fit in, and now, as a young adult, she was struggling to find her place in the world.

‘Give it time, Lou.’ I reached over and patted her hand. The move so awkward that we both stopped to stare at my hand, frozen in place over hers, before cracking up.

‘Seriously though,’ I said, pulling my hand back, ‘sometimes it takes a while for something to feel right, even when you’re where you’re meant to be.’

She nodded, giving me a small smile that warmed my heart. I’d missed this. Missed her. I promised myself to make more of an effort to see her. No more excuses.

‘Oh, by the way,’ she started, breaking my gaze and looking back out the window. ‘Are you bringing someone to the wedding?’

She knew I wasn’t. My friends Tilly and Ed were getting married in late October and, as Tilly was Pippa’s elder sister, Louise was going too. ‘Well,’ she said, clearing her throat, the tips of her ears turning pink in a telltale sign of trouble, ‘you might want to. Plan on it that is.’

‘Why?’ I asked, narrowing my gaze.

‘I may or may not have told everyone that you were bringing your new girlfriend, who you were super in love with,’ Louise rushed, only turning to face me once the last words were spoken.

‘Louise!’

‘I know! I know!’ She cringed in her seat. ‘But I was sat there at Pippa’s party, and they just wouldn’t shut up about how you’re a shell of your former self since the breakup—which,’ she paused, raising a finger in protest, ‘even if it’s true, screw them, and how it’s such a shame and what a waste of “a total babe”—ew.’ She visibly shuddered. ‘Anyway, before I knew it, it was out there… like word vomit.’

‘Louise,’ I groaned, dropping my head in my hands.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ I turned my head to find her looking at me, imploringly. Her palms rubbing together in supplication.

‘Well,’ I said with a shrug, ‘you’ll just have to come clean.’ This was not my problem.

‘Aiden,’ she bit out, palms dropping to her sides. ‘Do not make me a liar.’

‘ You made you a liar,’ I pointed out, and then, feeling a little bad for her, added: ‘just tell them we broke up.’

‘And have you look even more pathetic?’ She wailed, throwing her hands in the air. ‘Oh-ho, no.’ She brought her palms down to the table, jostling the rickety thing and sending her napkin fluttering to the floor. ‘You have to take someone.’

‘Who?’ I asked. Though why I did wasn’t totally clear—I should not have been encouraging this ridiculous idea.

‘Someone from work?’

I snorted out a laugh. ‘And have them know all about the trouble you consistently get yourself into?’ I stooped forward to pluck the errant napkin off the floor. ‘Not likely.’

‘Marketplace?’

‘Louise,’ I groaned, burying my head in my hands.

‘What?’ she asked earnestly. ‘There’s gotta be an app for this.’

‘So not only do you want me to go along with this… you want me to pay for it too?’

‘Okay… okay,’ she said sheepishly. ‘Any friends you could ask?’

‘Sarah?’ Sarah was the middle sister of the Pippa-Sarah-Tilly trio, not my type at all, but she’d always seemed nice enough.

‘Are you kidding?’ Louise reeled back. ‘You can’t bring her. Not only is she the biggest blabbermouth in the county… she’s Tilly’s sister!’

‘Right,’ I nodded slowly, not quite understanding the issue.

‘They’re expecting your girlfriend, Aiden.’ Louise shot me a look of exasperation. ‘No one can know it’s fake. And picking someone already invited or that people know… that’s the best way to get caught.’

I nodded in understanding, rescinding my earlier promise to spend more time with my sister.

‘You have to bring someone no one knows. That way, they can be anyone you want them to be.’ I stared at her, waiting to hear her suggestions. ‘Got any cute, single girls in your building?’ she joked, and my mind snapped to the curly haired brunette on the floor above me. No. No way.